


Whiskers on Kittens

by eerian_sadow



Series: A Long Term Arrangement [12]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen, Kinks, M/M, Multi, beachcomber and perceptor will try anything once, building relationships, discovering sexuality, mentions of drug use, the autobots have a swinging kink scene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-09-29 19:42:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10142570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: After seeing more than one of Prowl and Sunstreaker's impromptu shows, Groove is discovering things about himself. Most of them are confusing, though, so he asks for advice. And gets more in return that he expected.





	1. Chapter 1

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Come in, Groove." Prowl gestured the young mech into his office. He was surprised to see the Protectobot here without one of his brothers. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine, sir. I just... Can I close the door? It's kind of personal." The tactician didn't miss the way the scout's fingers twisted around themselves, making Groove's nervousness clear. 

"You may." He frowned as the Protectobot darted to the door and pressed the control that slid the portal closed. The young mech's posture was worryingly tense, well out of character for Groove. "Are you certain everything is all right?"

"Yeah, I just didn't want First Aid walking by. He doesn't mean to, but he makes trying to figure things out a lot harder than it already is."

Prowl nodded, understanding. It seemed his suspicions about Groove's preference might have been correct. The tactician relaxed his wings, relieved that he (probably) wouldn't be resolving a family dispute. "Are you and he fighting?"

"No. Not yet. But it feels like it." The scout sighed and crossed the room to sit down in one of the chairs set up in front of the black and white mech's desk. "His coding tells him that people like you and Sunstreaker and... and me are broken. So he thinks he has to fix us. But I don't feel broken and I don't want fixed!"

"You are not broken," Prowl assured the Protectobot gently. "Many people have felt the way your brother does, though. Dealing with them is very difficult, especially when you feel alone."

"Yeah, it is." The white and gold mech slumped down in his chair. "That's why I thought maybe you could help me."

"I will help you in any way I am able to." The Praxian gave the Protectobot a soft smile. "Though I must warn you that I am unlikely to be able to fulfill your specific needs."

"I wouldn't have asked you to." Groove curled in on himself, looking away from the older mech. "You and Sunstreaker are you and Sunstreaker, you know? And I'm... I don't think I'm like him. I mean, I am, but I'm not. Does that make sense?"

"It's not your most coherent statement, but I understand. That is perfectly normal, as well." Prowl stood and walked around the desk. He crouched down in front of the younger mech, angling himself so that the Protectobot had to meet his gaze. "I would not expect any other submissive mech to behave the way Sunstreaker does, any more than he expected me to behave the way his previous dominants did. We all respond differently."

"Yeah, but sometimes our responses are wrong. Aid said it was even a programming glitch." 

Prowl's expression shifted slightly, lips curling down into a frown. "Nothing about you is glitched. Your coding is different, not wrong. Unless you think something is wrong with me, as well?"

"What? No! Ratchet wouldn't leave you on duty of there was." Groove paused, then smiled weakly. "He wouldn't leave me on duty, either, would he?"

"No. He would not. First Aid is simply young and inexperienced, like all of you. Ratchet and I will speak with him." Prowl reached out and patted the young mech on the knee. "I know he doesn't mean to cause you anxiety."

"Yeah. I know." Groove sat up with another sigh. "I just don't want him to be upset either. It's... confusing."

"He is your brother. Of course you don't want him to suffer." The tactician patted the younger mech's knee again. "But you must also consider your own needs and suffering."

"Because I matter too?"

"Exactly." The older mech smiled again. "Let's start with what you need today, and worry about First Aid later."

"Okay." Groove nodded. "Where do we start?"

"We start with what you think you want to receive from your dominant partner. You cannot begin looking for one until you know your own desires."

"Okay. Um." The Protectobot pulled his lower lip in between his dental plates and chewed it for a moment. "I think... I want someone to take care of me. All the time. Like... like a pet."

"A pet?" Prowl blinked in surprise. He had never heard of a mech wanting anything like that.

"I-I know that's weird for a Cybertronian. But it's what I want, and I saw on the humans' Internet that some of them do it!" The white and gold mech's voice took on a slightly frantic tone.

"Groove, I wasn't judging you. I was just surprised." Prowl rested a hand on the other mech's knee again, soothing Groove through touch. "You're right that it isn't a typical relationship for one of us, but that doesn't mean it's wrong."

"I just... it means I'm never gonna find anyone, doesn't it?"

"It means you may have to look harder." The older mech stood up and extended a hand to the younger. "Come with me. We will go down to the commissary, draw our evening rations and discuss your preferences further. That will help ease your mind, I believe."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"What are you doing?" Sunstreaker slid up behind Prowl, wrapped his arms around the black and white mech's waist and rested his head on his partner's shoulder. He frowned as he saw what was on the tactician's data pad screen. "Please tell me that's not human pornography."

"A human kink and fetish forum, actually." Prowl rested one hand over the yellow mech's and laced their fingers together. "I am doing research."

"Research on human fetishes and kinks." The warrior's tone was flat. 

Prowl set his data pad down on his lap and focused his full attention on his partner. "Yes, and no. Groove came to me this evening at the end of my shift, needing help understanding his rather unique needs. It is... uncharted territory for me."

"I thought we agreed that I was going to be your only sub." Sunstreaker frowned and Prowl had to fight the urge to smile at the warrior's jealousy. 

"I am not taking on another submissive partner. I can't give Groove what he needs, even if you were willing to share me."

"So what, then?"

"I am learning about his needs, as much as I can, so that I can help him find a partner."

"Oh, Jazz is going to love this. You, playing matchmaker for one of the Protectobots." Sunstreaker chuckled, his momentary jealousy forgotten. "So, what's sweet little Groove into, anyway?"

"He wants to be someone's pet."

"Well _that's_ new."

"Not to the humans." Prowl tipped his data pad so that Sunstreaker could read over his shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

Groove looked up, clearly surprised when Prowl sat down across from him at the game table in the rec room. The table was still spread out with the remains of the checkers game he had just won against Fireflight, and the tactician didn't even pause before beginning to reset the board.

"Commander?" The Protectobot asked timidly.

"Prowl is acceptable, when we are off duty," the Praxian replied. 

"Hot Spot says it's disrespectful to not use your rank."

"When we are on duty, he is correct. Though that has never stopped Jazz or Ironhide." Prowl's lips quirked upward. "When we are in an informal setting, using my name is not disrespectful."

"I'll try to remember, s--Prowl." Groove returned the older mech's smile hesitantly. 

"Good. Now, red or black?" 

"Um, it doesn't matter. But why are we playing checkers?"

The black and white mech turned the board so that the red side faced Groove. "Seeing us do normal things will help your brother accept everything you do as normal. And this seemed like an excellent time to speak with you further, when there are fewer mechs around to eavesdrop and gossip."

The white and gold mech's gaze slid toward the other occupant of the rec room. "Smokescreen is the biggest gossip on the ship."

"Only when I need him to be." The blue and yellow Praxian gave Prowl a brief thumbs up, then turned up the volume on the television to give them a bit more privacy. "Anything we discuss here is safe with Smokescreen, even if he doesn't always seem reliable."

"I guess you have known him longer than me." Groove twisted his fingers together nervously. "I just don't want everyone to know, which probably sounds weird to you, because everyone knows about you and Sunstreaker."

"It isn't weird. You want your private affairs kept private. I simply have an exhibitionist side that Sunstreaker enjoys indulging." Prowl moved his first piece. "Not all of us enjoy that sort of play, no matter what some of the humans' forums imply."

"Oh. Oh good." The Protectobot reached for a piece of his own and moved it carefully. "The more I read, the more I was beginning to think maybe I really was broken."

"We are all very different, even when we share similar traits." The tactician smiled again and moved another game piece. "Now, tell me what you're looking for in a partner. Not what you need from them, just your own personal preferences and what you find appealing."

"Okay. I don't think we'll find anyone in the crew who fits, though." 

"I think you have every opportunity to be surprised. Now, it's your move."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Are you sure you should go to Prowl's party?" First Aid twisted a polishing cloth in his hands, 

"It's just a party, Aid. It'll be fine." Groove reached out and took the cloth out of his brother's hands. "We're just going to play games and watch movies. You can come too, if you want."

"I don't think Prowl is likely to be playing the kinds of games I'm interested in." The medic's previously worried tone went flat and Groove could feel his disapproval radiating through the bond. 

The scout gave into his urge to sigh. "It's not that kind of party Aid. Not everything Prowl does turns into some kind of fetish exhibition."

"Still, I don't think you should go. What if things get out of hand and you get hurt?"

Groove drew in a calming ventilation and counted to three before saying anything else. He had to fight the urge to just give Aid what he wanted and to stand up for his own needs for a change. "I won't get hurt. I'm going, and I'm going to have a nice night. If you change your mind, we'd all be happy to see you."

"Groove..." First Aid sounded hurt, and the scout squashed the urge to give in again.

"I'll see you in the morning for rations." The white and gold mech reached out and hugged his brother, pulsing love and a plea for understanding across the gestalt bond.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Hey, you made it!" Smokescreen's bright greeting helped banish some of his leftover bad feelings when Groove stepped into the rec room. "We're just getting the last of the seating arranged, if you want to help out."

The Protectobot looked around the room, taking in the chairs, pillows and blankets that were arranged around the television screen. It looked more like the sleepover Carly had hosted during his team's first year on Earth than a gathering of Autobots, but it also looked comfortable and cozy. "Yeah, sure. What's left?"

"There's a stack of those thick fleece blankets that everyone likes right inside the storage room door. Would you mind grabbing them and tossing them on the chairs?" The blue and yellow Praxian lifted his arms, filled with pillows in cuddling shapes, "I'd do it, but I've got these and then Prowl needs help setting up games."

"Yeah, I can do that," Groove told the older mech. "Is there a certain way I'm supposed to lay them out?"

"Nope! Just make them look comfy for movie time." Smokescreen grinned at him and then moved to the sofa and began dropping the pillows onto it.

“Okay.” Groove made his way to the storage room that the rec room shared with the commissary. 

When he opened the door, the blankets were just inside as promised. They were still so new, though, that the plastic wrapping was still on them. Carefully, the Protectobot tore the packages open and set the plastic aside to be recycled later. Then he carried the blankets back out to the rec room.

“Hi, Groove!” He barely had time to register Bluestreak’s greeting before half the blankets were being lifted out of his arms. “Here, let me help you with those. I don’t know how you could see anything with them piled so high. Where are we putting them?”

“Thanks, Bluestreak.” Groove gave the black and silver mech a small smile. “Smokescreen said they go on the chairs.”

“Okay.” The Praxian walked over to a set of chairs set to one side of the sofa and began dropping blankets on them. “I didn’t know you were planning on coming tonight. I don’t think i’ve ever seen you at one of Prowl’s parties before.”

The Protectobot clenched his hands in the fabric he was holding nervously. “This is my first. I’ve never been invited before.”

“Only because he didn’t know you would be interested, I promise.” The older mech beamed at him. “Prowl always tries to make sure everyone who might like to come has an invitation. Though I was pretty sure it was Jazz’s turn to host this month.”

As he placed the first blanket onto a chair, Groove felt suddenly nervous. “Are there going to be a lot of bots here tonight?”

“You, me, Prowl and Smokescreen.” Bluestreak turned back to placing blankets as well. “The twins, no Jazz since he’s out on a mission, Beachcomber and Perceptor maybe, Ratchet. Swoop and Paddles. Optimus and Ironhide will peek in, but they probably won’t stay long. So, not too many of us.”

“Oh. Oh good.” The feeling of being overwhelmed by the other Autobots eased up at the sniper’s words. 

“Were you worried this was going to be like the anniversary party again?”

“Yeah, a little,” Groove confessed. “And I’m not ready for that.”

“That was pretty unexpected,” Bluestreak agreed. “Usually Prowl plans things like that out more. He likes to show Sunstreaker off, but not out of the blue like that. He must have really liked Sideswipe’s present. I mean, sometimes things turn into a big orgy--especially if it’s Beachcomber’s month to host the party--but we try not to do that sort of stuff when Smokescreen’s around.”

“Why not?” When the silver and grey mech flinched at the question, the Protectobot wished he could take it back. He didn’t know what he’d said wrong, but he’d clearly made Bluestreak uncomfortable. “Sorry, that was a rude question.”

“Not rude, just really personal. Like, really, really personal. And I shouldn’t answer for him.” The Praxian sighed. “Just… he doesn't like to interface.”

“At all?” The scout stopped laying out blankets in surprise.

“Nope, not at all. So that’s why we try not to do it when he’s around. None of us like to make him uncomfortable.”

“Oh.” Groove wasn’t sure he understood, but he accepted Bluestreak’s implied order to not ask more questions about Smokescreen’s personal life. “Then why have special parties, if they make someone uncomfortable?”

“Because we still need space for us to be ourselves without any judgment and where we can share our knowledge and experiences.” The older mech gave the younger mech a smile. “We all know stuff about what we’re into, and sometimes that can help someone else even when we don’t practice all the same kinks. There are always going to be victory parties and dance parties and sparkday parties that can be for everyone, but we need space for just us, too. And since there aren’t enough of us to bother building a club, then we take turns hosting parties.”

"That's kind of nice." The white and gold mech returned the other's smile shyly.


	3. Chapter 3

The party had put him surprisingly at ease once all the guests had arrived, even if no one had been expecting Grimlock to accompany Swoop and Paddles and Jazz had returned unexpectedly early from his mission. The games had been silly but fun, especially the pillow fight that Smokescreen started--and that Paddles ended by accidentally tearing open one of the pillows on Swoop's head crest. 

They were still picking bits of stuffing out of vents and transformation seams as everyone settled in to watch whatever movie Prowl had picked out. There was a great deal of giggling as everyone built nests for themselves and their partners, and Groove felt like the odd mech out for several kliks until Bluestreak dropped a blanket over his head.

"Come on, Groove! Smokey claimed the couch for us! It's the best seat in the house!"

The Protectobot didn't think he agreed--the screen was set just low enough that he didn't like watching from the couch because the angle made him look down constantly--but the sniper was already pulling him over to his chosen spot. "What about Jazz? He just got back,shouldn't he get a spot on the couch?"

"He and Sideswipe can try to squish in if they want!" Bluestreak laughed and kept tugging until Groove was walking to the couch on his own.

"Phew!" Smokescreen greeted them with an overly dramatic sigh. "I had to fight off an entire Dinobot to keep these seats! It was tense!"

"I'm sure Paddles was the greatest threat you've faced all week," the silver and grey Praxian replied with a grin. He flopped down onto the couch and nestled comfortably into the pillows piled against the arm opposite the blue and yellow mech. "Get comfy, Groove! Prowl won't hit play til we're all settled."

"Okay." Suddenly all of the Protectobot's good feelings vanished in a wave of nerves. What if they didn't really want him here with them, especially since no one had asked why he was at the party or what he was into or anything like that.

Tentatively, Groove perched on the edge of the couch's center cushion. He was careful not to touch either Praxian, and he tucked his hands between his knees to make sure he wouldn't do anything they didn't like.

"Loosen up, kid," Smokescreen said gently, nudging him with one shoulder. "You're on a couch with two hot, snuggle-able Praxians! Have some fun with it!"

"Behave, Smokescreen!" Groove ducked his head at the sniper's rebuke of his fellow Praxian. "This is Groove's first party. He needs some time to adjust."

"Aw, slag. I'm sorry, Groove." The tactician wrapped an arm around the scout's shoulders and squeezed him gently. "I promise, I'm not trying to make this awkward for you on purpose."

"I know," the Protectobot replied softly. "I just feel like you're all going to decide that I really don't belong here any minute."

"Nobody's going to throw you out, kid," Smokescreen assured him, squeezing the younger mech again.

"I'm pretty sure there would be a riot if that happened," Bluestreak agreed. "This is our safe place, and no one is going to take that away from you now that you're here."

"Okay." Groove sighed, trying to push away the anxiety that had taken the place of his earlier good feelings.

"Is everything all right?" The three mechs on the couch all jumped at Prowl's question. 

"Oh hey, Prowl." Smokescreen gave the black and white Praxian a shaky grin. "Didn't hear you come up."

"Groove is having first time jitters," Bluestreak added. "We're just trying to assure him that he belongs here, but I'm not sure he believes us."

"Did someone say something to you, Groove?" The Protectobot was surprised by how angry Prowl looked at the idea.

"No, sir," the white and gold mech replied. "Everyone has been really nice to me. I just..."

"I understand." The older mech reached out and rested a soothing hand on the top of the young mech's head. "Smokescreen, I believe I heard Paddles saying something about wanting another cuddle friend in their nest."

"Aw, but Prowl!"

Bluestreak giggled at Smokescreen's protest.

"Groove is currently more at ease with Bluestreak and myself. That means you give up your seat." Prowl crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the blue and yellow mech.

"Fine. But we are having a long discussion tomorrow."

"Of course." The second in command continued glaring until the junior tactician had grabbed his blanket and moved to join the Dinobots--much to Paddles' delight. Then Prowl came around the couch and sat down in the vacated spot. "Now you may get comfortable, Groove."

Groove looked from Prowl to Bluestreak--who was grinning encouragingly--and back. "I-is it alright if I cuddle?"

"Sunny gets super jealous, so you don't want to cuddle with Prowl," the sniper told him. "But you can cuddle with me. I like watching movies with someone snuggled close to me."

Prowl gave the Protectobot an approving nod.

"Okay," Groove said softly. Slowly, he scooted closer to Bluestreak and then lowered his head to rest on the older mech's thigh. "Is this okay?"

"Sure, that's fine." The silver and grey mech was smiling brilliantly when the scout looked up. Then the sniper shocked him by reaching down and resting a hand on his side. "You can scoot closer if you want."

"Okay," the protectobot said again. He slid a bit closer, pressing more of his body against Bluestreak's leg and lifted his feet up onto the cushion with the rest of his body. The sniper responded by sliding his hand forward and letting it rest on Groove's abdomen, holding the younger mech in a loose hug.

Groove resisted the urge to purr. He was sure Bluestreak was just being ...cuddly and didn't mean anything by it.

A moment later, Sunstreaker joined them, handing each mech a plate of some kind of gelled treat before sitting down on the floor and resting his head on Prowl's knee. The tactician started the movie, and Groove was surprised to realize that he could actually watch comfortably from his current angle.

The young mech sighed and gave in to the urge to let his engine purr softly.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Prowl smiled when he glanced over and realized that Groove and Bluestreak had both fallen into recharge before the movie ended. He hadn't been planning to try to match the sniper and the scout, but Blue's natural friendliness and easygoing personality seemed to have set the Protectobot at ease. Certainly more so than Smokescreen's loud, overly outgoing attitude. 

_They're adorable,_ Sunstreaker commed as the other party guests started picking up their blankets and pillows and filing toward the rec room door. _Are you thinking what I'm thinking?_

 _Perhaps. Bluestreak seems to be a good match on the surface, anyway._ Carefully, the tactician eased himself off the couch and moved to turn off the DVD player and the television. _Will you comm Hot Spot and let him know where Groove is? I don't want to wake either of them if Blue is actually resting._

_No problem. You need anything else?_

_Thank you, no. The beauty of giving away all the blankets and pillows is that this was a self-cleaning party. For the most part._ Prowl turned to smile at his partner. _Honestly, Jazz is more likely to need your help getting Sideswipe back to his room._

 _Figures. He gets a boyfriend and I still have to babysit my idiot brother._ The artist stood and crossed the room so that he could press a soft kiss to the corner of Prowl's mouth. _I'll see you back at our place._

 _I will be there soon._ Prowl turned his head to give his partner a proper kiss. Then, as Sunstreaker left his side to meet Jazz, he turned his attention to Ratchet. _Ratchet, I need a moment._

 _Is this about whatever the Protectobots have been squabbling about?_ The medic's tone was both fond and irritated.

_It is. Will you stay and help me clean, so that we can have a private discussion?_

Ratchet looked over at the tactician with a frown. _This sounds a lot more serious than a bunch of siblings fighting. What's wrong?_

Prowl sighed softly as he tucked the DVD into his subspace. He didn't like having to treat the Protectobots like sparkling but things with First Aid needed handled now, before Groove was hurt any further. _I don't want to interfere in their lives, but Groove came to me a few days ago convinced there was something wrong with him. One of the things he told me was that First Aid believes submissive mechs are glitched._

 _We've all been dealing with that sort of ignorant slag for ages,_ the medic replied, picking up a chair and moving it back to its proper position next to the game table. _What's so different about this?_

_First Aid **told** him that mechs like Sunstreaker had programming glitches. Given the difficulties Groove is already having figuring out his own needs and desires, you can see the problem._

The medic turned and focused his full attention on Prowl. _Told him, as in it was an opinion or told him like it was a medical fact?_

 _As if it were fact,_ the tactician replied. _Groove was beyond upset._

 _I am too,_ Ratchet replied. _Sounds like my intern and I will be having a long talk tomorrow. And then someone will re-read the medical texts on processors, programming and individual variance. Primus. You don't think Aid told any of this to Swoop, do you?_

_If he did, Swoop has given no indication. But perhaps you should speak with him, just in case._

_Yeah._ The white and red mech scrubbed his face with his hands tiredly, then went back to moving chairs. _Thanks for ruining my good mood, by the way._

 _Thank your intern,_ the black and white mech replied. 

_Believe me, I will._ Ratchet took out some of his frustration by slamming a chair into the floor. Bluestreak whined and stirred slightly and the medic grimaced. _Slag, I hope he doesn't wake up._

Both officers waited, still and quiet to see if the sniper came back online. After several seconds of the younger Praxian's twitches, Groove's optics lit and he glanced up at the other mech. Then, the scout hitched his blanket further up around his shoulders and crawled up into the silver and grey mech's lap and rested his head over Bluestreak's spark. "It's okay, Blue. Just go back to sleep."

Ratchet's mouth dropped open as the sniper sighed once, deeply, and his systems settled back into the steady hum of recharge.

 _Sunstreaker will be disappointed that we won't be playing matchmaker after all,_ Prowl replied, relieved amusement clear in his tone. 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Bluestreak booted up leisurely, feeling warm and comfortable enough after a full nights recharge to take his time and properly start all his systems. He didn't remember the last time felt so well rested, or had gone a full night without even a stress-triggered memory purge. Once he reached full consciousness, though, he was surprised to bring his optics online and see Groove curled up in his lap. The younger mech was still in recharge, systems humming peacefully and frame relaxed. 

Blue was glad that the Protectobot had recharged as peacefully as he had--the tension bleeding off the mech during parts of the party had made his wings ache in sympathy--and he almost didn't want to wake him. But they both had duty shifts, and Groove's brothers were probably worried about him.

"Hey," the sniper put a hand on the white and gold mech's shoulder. "Groove, wake up."

The scout stirred slightly but his systems didn't tick over from sleep mode to full function.

"C'mon, Groove, wake up." Bluestreak shook gently, prompting the younger mech to whine softly. "I know, I don't want to get up either. But I bet Hot Spot is worried sick."

"Hot Spot?" His brother’s name penetrated Groove's recharge protocols and he struggled online. "Is he okay? Do they need me?"

"Your brothers are fine, even if they're worried. We just recharged late, and we're still in the rec room." Blue smiled at the younger mech as Groove sat up slowly. "Did you recharge well?"

"Yeah, I slept fine." The Protectobot peered up at the older mech from his spot on Bluestreak's lap. "Did you really let me sleep with you all night?"

"I guess so," the sniper's smile turned slightly embarrassed. "I told you I liked to cuddle."

"Um, it's all right." The scout glanced away shyly. "It was kind of nice."

"Yeah, it was." The Praxian sighed softly. "Too bad we have to be on duty soon."

"Yeah." Groove echoed the other mech's sigh, then shot upright. "Oh no! What time is it? I promised First Aid I would meet him for morning rations!"

Bluestreak reluctantly moved his hands from the Protectobot's back and shoulder and let the other mech off his lap. Groove turned toward the door, the paused and turned back to the sniper.

"Thanks for making sure I had fun last night." Groove's shy smile was as bright as any Bluestreak could remember seeing on the young mech's face.

"You're welcome," the older mech replied, returning the smile.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, Prowl?"

The tactician wasn't surprised to hear Bluestreak's voice. He had been expecting the sniper since stepping into his office first thing this morning. "Yes, Bluestreak?"

"How well do you know Groove?" The younger Praxian stepped into the office without waiting for Prowl to invite him in. 

"Not as well as I would like to, yet. Why?"

"I'm just trying to figure out if what happened last night at the party was normal for him. I mean, I know none of us have much basis for comparison, since he's never been to one of _our_ parties before, but I've never seen him look so... I dunno, scared? at a party before." Bluestreak sighed and sat down in front of the older mech's desk. "He's a good bot, and I'm a little worried about him."

"Well," Prowl paused, considering his words. "I know that Groove is struggling to understand his own urges, and that he isn't getting the support he needs when he's off duty. He needs that support, and he probably needs friends. I do not believe I have ever seen him socialize with anyone who isn't one of his brothers, except for Fireflight."

"Yeah, I've noticed they all do that. The Protectobots all treat the Aerialbots like they're their older brothers." The silver and grey mech's lips turned down. "No wonder Groove was so nervous."

"Indeed. To be honest, I wasn't even sure he would attend the party."

"Well, I wasn't too different when Smokescreen dragged me to Ratchet's place that first time." The sniper smiled softly. "And then I made friends that weren't you and Smokey."

"And if I'm not wrong, Groove has as well." Prowl smiled as well.

"Yeah, he has." Bluestreak's smile widened. 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

First Aid was very quiet when Groove sat down with his brothers for their evening ration. The medic only glanced up at the scout and then back down into his energon ration. 

Groove looked from Aid to Hot Spot before asking timidly, "Is everything alright?"

The medic hunched his shoulders inward, curling up into a miserable ball as the Protectobot leader replied. "First Aid has something he needs to say to you."

"He does?" The white and gold mech turned to look back at First Aid.

As soon as the scout focused his attention fully on the medic, Aid made a wailing, mournful sound and flooded the gestalt link with confusion, sorrow and apology. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you think you were broken!"

Groove blinked, both at the other mech's tone and the intensity of the emotional onslaught. Then he reached across the table and wrapped his hands around his brother's. "It's okay, I know. I still love you."

The red and white mech's ventilations hitched at the scout's words and he wailed again. "I didn't... I didn't know you were like Sunstreaker. I didn't mean to hurt you so much!"

The white and gold mech winced as his brother blurted his secret to the entire commissary and the rest of the protectobots, but he didn't let go of the other mech's hands. "I didn't know for a while either. I forgive you. But I want you to promise me something."

They could both feel their other brothers' attention focused on them as First Aid nodded shakily. "Anything."

"You have to learn more about _me_ so that you don't do anything stupid again."

"Okay," the medic replied.

"About time." Blades huffed and crossed his arms. "Now, I wanna know just when Groove had a spinal strut installed."

There was a resounding clang as Streetwise punched the rotary in the arm, and slowly their table--and the rest of the commissary--returned to normal.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Groove was scrolling through a new forum--one that seemed more devoted to the fetishization of his desires rather than active participants, to his disappointment--when their doorbell chimed. He glanced up from the computer terminal and started to stand, but Blades stomped to the door before he had a chance to do more than slide his chair back.

"What." The rotary sounded as grumpy as if someone had interrupted his nap (they hadn't; Blades had been watching some reality show) when the door slid open.

"Oh, hi, Blades!" Bluestreak didn't sound the least bit put off by the flier's grumpy attitude. "Is Groove around?"

"Why? Is he in trouble?" Briefly, the scout hid his optics in embarrassment at his brother's hostility. The he stood and started to cross the room.

"No, he just forgot some things from the party last night, and Prowl gave us really nice blankets so I wanted to make sure Groove got his like he was supposed to. Hi, Groove!" Bluestreak's face lit up in a bright smile when he saw the white and gold mech over Blades' shoulder.

"Hi, Blue." The scout returned the smile shyly. "Sorry about Blades. You interrupted Survivor."

"It's Big Brother!" Blades snapped back, turning away from the door. "And if you're not in trouble, I'm going back to it."

“Please don’t be upset with Blades,” Groove said as his brother stomped away. “He and Slingshot had a fight earlier and now he’s sort of mad at everything, even the TV.”

“I heard that!” Blades shouted. 

“Anyway,” the white and gold mech continued, ignoring his brother. “You can come in if you want. It’s just me and Blades until children’s night at the drive in is over.”

“I’d really like to, but I have to be on the overnight monitor shift in an hour. We won’t have a lot of time” 

“That’s okay.” Groove smiled and stepped back from the door so that the Praxian could come in. “We can just hang out and watch Big Brother with Blades or something.”

“Sounds great.” Bluestreak returned the smile as he stepped into the Protectobots’ quarters. He reached into his subspace as he walked, and pulled out a bright pink blanket. “This is yours, too, before I forget.”

“Thanks. I was in such a hurry I forgot all about it.” The white and gold mech took the blanket and cuddled it close to his chest.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This almost catches everyone up to what i have written, so it may be slow going after this. I'm sorry! That said, I'm feeling very motivated and hopefully it won't be too much waiting!

"Good morning Groove, Streetwise." Prowl paused next to the Protectobots' table. "How are you?"

"Fine, sir, thank you." Streetwise looked at the older mech, clearly a but confused. "You?"

"I am well, thank you." The tactician took a small drink from his ration before turning his full attention on the white and gold mech. "And you, Groove?"

"I'm fine, Prowl. Really." The Protectobot gave him a small smile. "You probably heard about what happened with First Aid, yesterday. That... we needed that."

"I am glad to hear that things are better between you." Prowl reached out and patted the young mech on the shoulder. "I hope that doesn't mean our afternoon ritual will change."

Groove's smile widened. "No chance. I like playing games with you."

"Good." Prowl smiled in return. "Streetwise, I will see you at the tactical meeting in an hour."

"Yes, sir." Streetwise visibly resisted the urge to salute and Prowl's smile widened. Then the older mech turned away from them and walked over to Jazz's table. "What was that about?"

"He was just making sure everything was okay. I mean that I was okay." Suddenly nervous, the white and gold mech looked down into his energon. "Things have been kind of confusing, you know?"

"I know." The black and white mech reached out and laid his hand over his brother's. "I'm sorry that I haven't been here for you."

"It's okay. It's kind of what I get for keeping everything to myself for so long."

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't have been a better brother. I knew something was going on with you and Aid." Streetwise sighed. "I promise I'll do better."

"Okay." Groove turned his hand over, and gripped his brother's tightly. 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“What’s this?” Groove picked up the envelope with his name on it curiously.

“Dunno,” Blades replied. “Ratchet dropped it off about ten minutes ago, right before you got off shift.”

“Ratchet, really?” The white and gold mech dropped down onto the couch next to his brother. “That’s kind of weird.”

“That’s what I said, too. He told me not to be an aft.” the flier scooted closer to the two-wheeler. “So what is it?”

“Why are you being so nosey? I thought Ratchet told you not to be an aft.” Groove nudged his brother affectionately before pulling up the sealed edge of the envelope.

“I dunno. I guess you’re just doing more interesting stuff these days.”

“I guess so.” The scout fought the urge to argue--Blades was right, even if he was probably just trying to pick a fight with him. “What are you going to do if it’s pictures of Prowl’s party last month?”

“Groove, you came home from that with a neon pink blanket and a stuffed platypus toy. You can’t possibly have scandalous pictures from that.” Blades gave him a flat stare.

Groove laughed at the rotary’s expression. “You’re right. We didn’t do anything scandalous. Swoop probably has some good blackmail pictures of Smokescreen and Paddles, though.”

“Uh huh. I’m not sure I want to know.”

“You probably do, but you’d rather gossip with Slingshot about it first.” The white and gold mech nudged his brother again. 

Blades transferred his gaze from his brother’s face to the envelope with a pointed look. Groove sighed theatrically and pulled out a pale yellow card.

“To Groove and any Protectobot curious about his new lifestyle,” the scout read aloud. “You are cordially invited to attend a showcase of energon treats, food and fuel kinks and aphrodisiacs on the ninth of July. Attendees are to meet in the medbay and bring their favorite treats.”

Blades blinked at his brother. “There are _food_ kinks?”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

For several seconds, Groove hesitated in front of Prowl's door. The older mech had given him a standing invitation to visit, but he hadn't thought to check with Teletraan and now he wasn't sure he would be welcome at this exact moment. He didn't even know if Prowl was _in_ his quarters, let alone if he was in a state for visitors. 

"It bites if you stare at it too long."

Groove squeaked at jumped at the unexpected voice. Lost in his own thoughts, the Protectobot hadn't noticed Sunstreaker approach. "Huh?"

"The door. It bites." The yellow twin kept his expression neutral as the younger mech blinked at him. Then he sighed softly. "I'm kidding, Groove. I know no one expects it from me, but I have a playful side."

"It's not that!" Groove assured him hastily, feeling even more nervous. "I was thinking too hard and what you said didn't make any sense because I was too busy worrying that I would be interrupting something important. I'm sorry."

"Wow." The frontliner smirked at the scout. "I didn't think Blue would rub off on you this quickly."

"I'm sorry." Embarrassment heated Groove's faceplates and he ducked his head, looking away from the older mech. 

"Stop apologizing when you aren't doing anything wrong." Sunstreaker stepped closer and put a hand on the Protectobot's shoulder. "You have to do a lot more than miss a joke to frag me off."

"Sorry. I'll try to do better."

"Hey." The yellow mech tipped the white and gold mech's chin up with his free hand. "You're doing fine. And what did I just say?"

"To stop apologizing when I didn't do anything wrong."

"Exactly. Now, since you're too wound up for playing around, why don't you come inside to wait for Prowl? He's trapped in the officer's meeting for a while longer."

Groove cycled an unsteady ventilation and nodded, even though he felt much more like he should run back to his room and hide. He'd come to Prowl for advice, and running away would help him at all. "Okay."

"And you know you can talk to me too, right?" Sunstreaker let go of the Protectobot and turned his attention to the lock. "He's not the only repository of wisdom in this unit." 

"I know now." Some of Groove's tension drained away at the yellow mech's words. He still felt like he was imposing, but Sunstreaker was implying that he wanted him to stay and ask for his advice. "Thanks."

"Anytime." The door unlocked and the warrior gestured for the scout to enter before him. "And I mean that. I'm not _all_ vanity and confrontation."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Prowl looked exhausted when he finally came back to his quarters and Groove felt instantly guilty for staying and taking up more of his time when he saw him. The tactician rarely looked weary, and he never looked old, but tonight he looked both.

"Stop. Squirming." Sunstreaker growled the order with just enough force to remind Groove that he had volunteered to pose and was now in danger of ruining the artist's project, though he hadn't realized he was moving.

"Sorry." The Protectobot forced himself into stillness.

"It's okay." The yellow mech looked back to his sketch, seeming to ignore his partner. "You'll get better the more often you sit for me. How was the meeting?"

For a moment, Groove thought the warrior was still speaking to him. Then Prowl sighed wearily and shook his head.

"Unproductive." The tactician walked behind his partner and rested his hands on Sunstreaker's waist. "What are you working on?"

"Him." The yellow mech gestured toward the white and gold mech. "Did you know his optics are double paned? I'm trying to figure out how to make that look right. That could be why my drawings of Defensor always look off--I think his might be like that, too."

"Double paned?" Prowl looked up at the Protectobot, slightly confused.

"Um yeah. Standard optic lenses, covered by protective lenses that resist heat and explosive force. Hot Spot has them too." Groove fought the urge to duck and ruin the pose Sunstreaker had put him in. His optic configuration didn't seem unusual to him, and Aid had never mentioned it, but both older mechs had clearly been surprised. "It's for fire rescue."

"It is an unusual design choice, but logical in relation to your primary function." Prowl smiled softly. 

"Groove came by for advice," Sunstreaker interrupted. "And he's starting to have trouble holding that pose, so if you want to break for energon, I'll work on my lines."

"You know that you can ask Sunstreaker's advice as well?" The black and white mech pressed a kiss to the back of the yellow mech's head before stepping away from his partner.

"He told me that too," Groove replied. "And he had some good ideas for how i should handle Blades when he's being more Blades than usual, and that helped but I still have all this stuff he said sort of rattling around in my head."

"I see." Prowl sighed softly. "I think that I am beginning to be glad that I have no siblings. Come into the kitchen and tell me what he said while I prepare our evening rations."

"Okay." The Protectobot stood up and followed the older mech as Prowl walked into the tiny kitchenette. "He just had these crazy ideas for what would happen at the next party and my processor just sort of ran away with everything. We're not really going to sit around and drink energon from each other's valves, right?"

"I would not put it's past Beachcomber and Perceptor to try that, but no." Prowl's voice was full of amusement and Groove made a relieved sound. "Ratchet is hosting a food theme, then? I haven't had a chance to open our invitation."

"Yeah, and Blades doesn't get it at all, and I'm not sure I do either."

"Sunstreaker and I only dabble in fuel related play, so I am perhaps not your best resource, but please sit down and I will do my best to explain."


	6. Chapter 6

“Hey, Groove! How are you?” Fireflight’s voice was happy as he ducked into the tiny kitchen Prowl had told him the location of when they talked the night before. “What are you doing way down here?”

“Making candy,” the Protectobot replied, pulling a pan full of carefully sculpted treats from the freezer.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make candy!” The Aerialbot bounced happily. 

“I taught myself how, after that time Menasor ripped off your wing.” Groove shrugged.

Fireflight’s optics went wide. “Did you make that candy that you brought me in the medbay?”

“Um, yeah?”

“That’s so cool!” The white and red mech darted forward and hugged Groove, careful not to knock the tray out of his hands. “Can you teach me?”

“Yeah, probably. But I need to finish shaping these before they melt everywhere.”

“Okay!” Fireflight let go of the Protectobot and stepped back. “Can I watch?”

Groove grinned, both glad his friend hadn’t asked why he was making candy and infected with his enthusiasm. “You bet.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Hey, Sunstreaker, do you have a minute?” Groove ignored the way the rec room fell silent when he approached the older mech. Mechs talked to the artist all the time, so there wasn't any reason for them to be staring hard enough to make his plating crawl off.

“Yeah, what's up, kid?” Sunstreaker turned away from his brother with a new expression that was almost a mirror of Prowl's almost-worried frown, a similarity that went a long way toward easing any lingering nervousness he might have had around the older mech.

“It's nothing bad, I promise!” Groove gave the yellow mech a small smile. “I was just making candy, and I realized I didn't know what flavors anyone liked. Fireflight said I should just use copper because everyone likes copper, but I think that's just because it's his favorite. And since I have to make more than one batch anyway, I thought I should ask what someone else likes.”

Sunstreaker smiled after Groove asked his actual question. “No one ever thinks to ask that kind of stuff. You might regret it.”

“Probably not, as long as I can get supplies.” Groove straightened with pride. He wasn't a seasoned professional, but he was sure of his skills in the kitchen. 

“Sideswipe and I like magnesium treats. And you know how well that plays with water.”

He did, and his smile widened a bit. He knew just the layered candy recipe to experiment with. After all, water and energon barely reacted with each other at all. “I can do that.”

“I like this confidence,” Sideswipe said, grinning at the younger mech. “Can't wait to see it.”

“Me, either,” Sunstreaker added.

For a moment, the scout wondered if the twins were just humoring him to get him to go away. Then he stomped the feeling down firmly; Sunstreaker was trying to encourage him, the same as Prowl and Bluestreak. “What about everyone else?”

“Prowl likes copper, too. Ratchet likes sulfur and Jazz likes those little silicone lace things that just taste like crunchy air.” The yellow mech paused for a moment, thinking. “Smokescreen eats a lot of nickel, but I’ve never been sure if that’s because he’s deficient or if he really likes it that much. I’m not sure about anyone else.”

“Optimus goes nuts for fizzy candy,” Sideswipe added. “Just… don’t ask how I know that.”

“I am so getting you drunk and making you tell that story,” Sunstreaker told his twin.

“I kind of hope I’m there to hear it too.” Groove grinned, then clapped his hands over his mouth as he realized what he’d said.

Sideswipe blinked at the Protectobot as Sunstreaker laughed. “If you’re not there, I’ll record it for you.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Are you planning to make it a habit to come early enough to help set up for every party?” Ratchet asked with a smile as Groove stepped into the medic’s quarters.

“I don't know, maybe.” The Protectobot pushed the cart he had loaded his candy on your into the room. “I wanted extra time to put out the candy and make some syrups. They don't take too long.”

The medic stepped up to the cart and looked the candy over with an expression that turned gleeful. “Groove, I had no idea you knew how to make candy. Or syrup. When did you find the time for that?”

“After Fireflight’s last accident. Streetwise found a bunch of old recipes on Cybertron last year, and I taught myself using those.” The white and gold mech ducked his head, embarrassed as Ratchet turned to stare at him. “It's, um. It's fun, and it keeps me busy when I'm off duty.”

“That's amazing, kid! I have a dozen questions for you so that you can explain how you converted temperature and the like for Earth, but that can wait.” The older mech patted him on the shoulder. “I'm impressed, though. And proud of you. This candy is beautiful.”

“T-Thank you!” He hadn't expected Ratchet to be as excited as Fireflight had been, but the medic’s praise made his spark flutter with warmth. 

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Don't eat those.” Jazz nudged the Protectobot’s hands away from a plate of silvery wafers. “Beachcomber is the only one in the room who's gonna want those tonight.”

Groove blinked at the saboteur. “What are they?”

“Hallucinogens. Think of it like that drug the humans have, acid.” 

“Why would anyone want that?”

“Beachy’s gears turn a little different than the rest of us.” Jazz shrugged. “He and Perceptor got it worked out, so the rest of us just make sure we all stay out of his stash.”

Groove nodded. He didn't get it, but the older mech didn't seem to either, so he supposed it didn't matter as long as no one was hurt. “Anything else I should know about?”

“Well, unless you got someone walking you back to your quarters, you should stay out of the moonshine me and Sideswipe brought. It's a little stronger than I meant to brew it.” The black and white mech chuckled. “I started it before I got sent to Tanzania, and you know how that worked out.”

“That's the green one, right?” Groove waited for the saboteur’s nod. “I'll definitely stay away. I don't like regular high grade, so that doesn't sound fun. Thanks, jazz.”

“Anytime, Groove! Look me up later if you get lonely. Sides is on monitor duty in an hour, so I'll need a dance partner later.”

“I'll keep it in mind.” The white and gold mech was pleased with how steady he kept his voice when his spark clenched with sudden anxiety. Jazz was still a lot more outgoing than he felt ready for.

“Great. Have fun tonight!” Jazz reached for a silicon wafer, saluted him with it and wandered back toward Sideswipe. 

Groove sighed softly and went back to picking out a treat he hadn't tried before. He was lifting a blue cake-like treat toward his plate when an excited voice attracted his attention. 

“Hey, who brought flavored syrups?” 

The young mech turned and grinned at Sunstreaker. “I did. The dark ones are oil based, with gold and nickel. The pink one is just sweet energon and the greenish one is copper with a little calcium.”

“You made these _and_ the candy? Prowl isn't giving you enough patrol time.” The yellow mech grinned. “They're perfect for tonight, though. Mind if I steal them?”

Groove shook his head. “I can make more if we need it. Ratchet’s kitchenette is really nice.”

“Great. Thanks.” Quickly, Sunstreaker gathered up the containers. “Come by the couch later and I'll paint you up, if you want.”

“Paint?”

“Yeah, edible paint. I only have three colors, though, cause they've been hard to make on Earth. Syrup is a great substitute, though.” The artist grinned. “Keep an optic on Prowl and you'll see.”

“Oh. Okay. Do you mind if I watch?”

“No, come on over. I'll do you after Prowl, if you decide you like it.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

Groove had watched in fascination as Sunstreaker painted Prowl with his edible paints and the syrup the Protectobot had made. He had thought the design would be something simple, silly and not ornamental at all like he had seen online in some of the forums, but the artist had covered the Praxian in a delicate filigree across his wings and chest. Prowl looked elegant, rather than silly.

“Remember our rules,” the black and white mech said as he stepped away from Sunstreaker.

“Yes, sir.” Sunstreaker gave the other mech a mischievous smile and Groove felt like he was looking in on a private moment that he shouldn't be watching. “May I have a kiss first?”

Prowl gave the yellow mech a calculating look. “Only if you do not touch me anywhere besides your lips. I will be very firm tonight, Sunstreaker.”

“Yes, sir. I promise, sir.”

“Very well.”

Groove felt his face heat as Prowl leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the artist’s lips. He wasn't certain why, since he had seen them kiss before. He had even seen them playing out one of their undercover scenes before. This just seemed more… something than usual.

“Now, be good,” Prowl said with a smirk as he pulled away. “Call if you need me.”

“Yes, sir.” Sunstreaker smiled and watched his lover walk toward the treat table. Then he looked over to the Protectobot. “You okay over there, Groove?”

“I'm fine. Just discovering how weird it is to watch your friends kiss sometimes.” The younger mech shook his head. “Prowl looked really nice when you were done. Are you going to do that for everyone?”

“Only if that's what they want. Prowl and I have plans for taking it all off later.” The yellow mech smirked again, briefly. “I wouldn't do anything that ornate for you unless you asked, and I wouldn't put it on your back, just in case you don't have any help to wash it off later.”

“Okay.” The white and gold mech nodded. “I think it might be fun to be painted tonight.”

“All right. Sit down on the stool and face me.”

The Protectobot followed the artists instructions. “Now what?”

“Hold very still. I'm not allowed to touch anyone tonight.”

“Oh, okay.” Groove locked his joints and let the yellow mech begin working. 

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Groove examined himself in Ratchet’s small mirror--pulled from someplace in the medbay once everyone realized that Sunstreaker was willing to use the edible paints on any of them--and smiled. Just like he promised, the artist had highlighted his angles with a bit of blue and one of the oil syrups. It gave him the illusion of being confident, and made him feel bold.

“I like it!” He told the yellow mech. “Maybe you should update my color scheme for me later.”

Sunstreaker sat up a bit more proudly and grinned at the younger mech. “I haven’t done a personal color scheme in a long time, but I’d love to help you.”

“Thanks, Sunny.” The Protectobot beamed as he turned away from the mirror.

“You look really nice, Groove!” Bluestreak was smiling at him from just inside the door as the younger mech finished turning. “Did someone finally figure out a way to make more of Sunny’s edible paints?”

“Oh, no. The dark parts are syrup.” Groove felt his face heat again, at the attention the sniper was paying to his appearance. 

“Groove made it, and all the candy on the table,” Sunstreaker added. 

Bluestreak turned to look at the table full of confections and treats. “Wow, that’s great! Are those mineral swirls?”

“Um, they're supposed to be, but I didn’t have the right mineral additives for all the flavors.”

“I’m sure they’ll be just as good as I remember.” The silver mech beamed. 

“I hope so. This is the... “ Groove trailed off as movement behind the sniper caught his optic. He peered around the taller mech and felt his mouth drop open in surprise when he saw his brother standing in the doorway looking a little lost. “Blades?”

“ _There_ you are! I was starting to think I was in the wrong place!” The flier’s rotary blades quirked upward. “So, you gonna introduce me around?”

“You already know everybody here.” Groove resisted the urge to roll his optics at his brother. “I didn’t think you were really going to come.”

“Ratchet invited all of us.” Blades shrugged one shoulder. “Besides, the Aerials are all out of town and Spot and Aid are on duty. This was better than sitting around bored.”

“Yeah.” Groove knew that wasn’t the only reason his brother had come, but he didn’t want to start a fight by accusing the other mech of hoping for a free interfacing show. “Is Streetwise studying, or is he going to come too?”

“He’s studying. He’s got that thing tomorrow.” Blades shrugged again. “It’s boring, and I thought this was supposed to be a party.”

“It is a party,” Bluestreak replied with a grin. “The timing is just all weird so some bots just went on shift and it’s not in swing again yet. It’ll get fun, honest.”

“Yeah,” Sunstreaker added before the rotary could make a sarcastic remark. “Ratchet hasn’t even gotten the cocktail mixes out yet.”

“Cocktails? You mean like high grade?” Blades punched the air at Sunstreaker’s nod. “Count me in!”

“Great. You can fly up to the top shelf of the storage room and get the shakers down for me thn.” Ratchet smiled as he walked up and interrupted the conversation. “It takes too long to make this many drinks with stir sticks.”

“Do I have to?” The rotary mech pouted.

“You don't have to, no.” The medic shook his head. “But it's a fair trade if I'm mixing drinks. And it'll keep you from picking a fight with your brother.”

Blades blinked and the ducked down as Ratchet pinned him with a knowing stare. “Yeah, okay. In the big storage room?”

“Yes. I'll point the box out to you.” The red and white mech turned to groove briefly. “Since Sunstreaker took possession of the sweet syrup, would you make up another batch? All of the non-high grade cocktails need it.”

“Sure!” The white and gold mech smiled, both at the medic’s intervention and the request. Then he reached for Bluestreak’s hand and tugged gently. “C'mon, Blue, you can help.”

“Okay.” Bluestreak grinned and let the smaller mech lead him to the kitchenette.


End file.
